Burden
by Niger Aquila
Summary: "You'd deny yourself the chance to grow? Carrying great burdens is what makes us stronger." A Jedi Consular struggles to come to terms with his past actions as the end draws near.


Lanso looked down at Aelan Kalder, the Child of the Emperor in charge of Guardian Hold Six. Kalder was lying on the floor with a hole in his chest, made by Lanso's lightsaber. This had become a familiar sight. It shouldn't be.

Not for the first time since he had landed on Corellia, Lanso found himself thinking of the message Master Jaric had sent him after his battle with Lord Vivicar. He had deleted it after reading the first page of the hundreds of names and had been trying his best to forget the accursed casualty list. Even now, he still wasn't sure if Master Jaric had simply meant to keep him informed of the situation, or to accuse him of indirectly killing hundreds of Jedi Masters. Most likely the former, even though it really should have been the latter.

He had been promoted, meaning as far as the Council was concerned, he had done nothing wrong. And it was not as if he had wanted the Jedi Masters to die, but he had been beyond frustrated after having tracked down four sick Masters, and all he had wanted was to kill the man responsible for the whole mess. It had been nothing but satisfying when it finally ended, especially since Morrhage had been so certain that Lanso would not strike with hundreds of Masters held hostage.

Could things have ended differently? Lanso could have tried shielding Parkanas. It might or might not have worked, but he had not even tried. He had given in to his anger and hundreds of lives had been lost because of it.

And what of Duras Fain, Fain's daughter, and Cin Tykan? Lanso had sent the first to his death and killed the other two himself. He could justify his actions, but he knew they were only excuses. He killed them because he refused to sacrifice his strength for those too weak to protect themselves, and especially for the Jedi, who had been trying to make him into someone he wasn't.

He wondered if the Council had really believed nothing could have been done to save the three Jedi. Or had they been hoping for him to redeem himself? He had ended up shielding the others, after all. Master Yuon he had helped without question. Eriz Vossan had merely been studying the Sand People and killing Sidonie Garen in a peace summit would have been stupid. Of course, none of that mattered when Vivicar died.

Lanso shook his head. Now was not the time to think about the past. He had an army to lead and a planet to free. The Republic must not lose Corellia. And to win Corellia, he had to find the First Son. He had to find Master Syo.

He still couldn't believe it. Master Syo was a great healer and a force for good, a better Jedi than Lanso would ever be. Of all the people, why him?

Once again Lanso looked down at Kalder. The shielding technique was useless against the Children of the Emperor, meaning Lanso had all the reasons to kill. But what would once have been a victory to him now felt like a failure.

Because if blaming Master Syo for what the First Son had done was plain wrong, and the idea of killing the former in order to get rid of the latter unthinkable, then by extension, the death of Kalder, who might or might not have known of the darkness within himself, was equally wrong, and Lanso's casual sacrifice of the hundreds of Jedi Masters in the name of cleansing the plague horrifying and unforgivable.

A Jedi's life was one of learning, Lanso had been told when he first started his training. It had not been his choice. Or rather, the choice had been either going to prison or going to the Jedi. He was young enough to be trained despite his involvement with the underworld, they had said. He had to be taught how to properly handle his power, they had then added, or he would be a danger to himself and those around him. It had not been a choice.

So he learned. He failed. And he learned more.

He remembered the battle across Balmorra and how the Republic and the resistance had managed to do what he had once considered impossible - driving the Empire away from a planet they had firmly occupied. He remembered freeing the Condemned on Belsavis and being drawn to the Esh-kha, fascinated by their culture. He remembered making a Voss healer sacrifice herself for Gaden-Ko and regretting it afterwards. He remembered trying and failing to stop Nadia from taking revenge for her father' death. He remembered reciting the Jedi Code to her and hoping it would bring her the same calmness it always brought him.

"The factory's defences are down, Jedi," said Tharan, stepping away from the terminal.

Then a familiar voice came from behind them. "I sense Aelan Kalder has fallen. You and your curiosities have teeth," said the First Son. "But the Republic is still crumbling. You grasp at sand, Jedi, and it slips through your fingers."

Lanso turned around. "I know you can hear me, Master," he said. "The Emperor can only trap you, not destroy you."

The First Son looked amused. "Fascinating."

Lanso ignored him and continued to address the Jedi Master. "Tharan Cedrax. Master Satele. Master Jaric. They know who you truly are."

Tharan stepped forward. "Syo, you once scolded Duras Fain for five minutes without drawing breath," he said. "You can handle this... this interloper!"

"Tharan. And... Duras Fain." It was Master Syo who was speaking now. "My friends... years ago."

Lanso flinched. Duras Fain was dead because of him, like so many others.

A Jedi's life was one of learning. Well, he should have learned _faster_.

The First Son regained control. "Enough. You shall watch, Syo, as your pupil suffers for this."

The transmission ended. Lanso stared at the empty space where the hologram had been. The First Son's threat did not scare him. In fact - and he realised this with a hint of wonderment - he would not mind dying if it meant freeing Master Syo from the First Son's control. It was the right thing to do.

But death was the easy way out, wasn't it? Becoming one with the Force and leaving behind all the broken pieces would not help anyone. Lanso had killed a lot of people. A lot of good people. With the war still going on, the least he could do was to fix some of the damages he had caused.

He would find a way to defeat the First Son and save Master Syo. He would help the Republic win Corellia. And after that, if he was still alive, he would start making amends. He would always carry the burden of his past actions, and the title "Barsen'thor" would always be a reminder of his failure instead of his success - a reminder that he had once chosen to kill rather than to save. But he could change. He _had_ changed, and he would continue to learn. And perhaps one day… perhaps one day, he would finally be the Jedi everyone seemed to think he could be.

* * *

A/N: The quote in the summary was the First Son's response if the Consular said he/she regretted destroying Vivicar at the cost of so many Jedi lives.


End file.
